


Flu, Mr Darcy and Magic Hands

by Pegasus_Eridana



Series: Daddy!Crixus 'verse [2]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasus_Eridana/pseuds/Pegasus_Eridana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naevia and Rosie get the flu, Crixus turns nurse, and Agron is the cavalry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flu, Mr Darcy and Magic Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This would have been up earlier, but a combination of barbecue and the Wimbledon final thwarted that particular plan. Apologies. 
> 
> Here is another fic fighting back against the dearth of Daddy!Crixus, which is something we could all do with more of in our lives, I feel. This is actually set before Snow, so Naevia is not yet pregnant with their second child.

Crixus was awakened by the sound of his daughter crying in the next room. Beside him, Naevia groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow. Crixus took that as a sign that he was on child duty. He staggered into his daughter’s room and looked down into the three-year-old’s flushed and tearstained face. She had kicked off her covers, and when he put a hand to her forehead she was burning up. Murmuring nonsensical words of comfort, he picked her up and took her into the bathroom, where he wetted a flannel with cool water and held it to her cheeks and forehead. Rosie slumped against her daddy, still sniffling and whimpering. 

“It’s the flu,” Naevia called from the next room.

“I may not be House, but I can tell the flu when I see it, love,” replied Crixus. Suddenly a thought struck him. “But you haven’t even seen Rosie. How do you know-“

“Because I’ve got it too,” said Naevia, appearing at the door and hanging onto the frame. She too was flushed, and had to rush past Crixus to lean over the toilet bowl and be quietly and thoroughly sick. Having ascertained that, for the moment, Rosie was not going to follow her mother’s example, Crixus went over to his wife and held her hair back, stroking her head and back and shoulders and applying the cool cloth to the back of her neck. Finally Naevia stopped retching and flopped down onto the floor, putting her head in Crixus’ lap. Rosie crawled over and did the same thing. They stayed there for a few minutes until Rosie started making gulping and retching noises. Crixus only just managed to get her over the toilet, and then had to spend the next twenty minutes wiping her face and cuddling her, trying to get her to stop crying. Eventually, exhausted, she flopped in Crixus’ lap and fell asleep, just as Naevia gasped and lunged for the toilet again. Crixus sighed to himself as he put down Rosie and went to hold his wife’s hair. It was going to be a long night. 

***

“Hey Crixus, what’s up? Thought you had a day off today.”

“Hey Nasir – I did but Naev and Rosie have both come down with the flu and Naevia’s had to call in sick. I can’t get her to go and rest though until she’s sure Rosie didn’t infect Duro when they were playing yesterday.” 

“Hang on, I’m already late for work but I’ll hand you over to Agron, OK?”

“Shit.”

“Yo fucktard, what’s up?”

“Shitface. My girls have got the flu, and Naev wants to make sure Duro hasn’t caught it.”

“Nah, he’s fine. Need us to pick up anything for you?”

“Calpol and some soup?”

“Got it. We’ll bring it round later. Try not to be too incompetent with them, OK Mr Pissington?” 

“Fuck off, Lady Twatterly. See you later.”

***

Crixus walked back into his and Naevia’s bedroom, where she and Rosie were curled up together. Rosie was sleeping fitfully, and Crixus took care not to disturb her as he leaned over and gently kissed his wife’s forehead. She looked up at him through half-closed eyes. 

“Duro’s fine,” murmured Crixus, “so will you please start looking after yourself and go to sleep now?” 

“I will if you stay with me,” replied his wife drowsily, pulling him down next to her. She was shivering, so Crixus grabbed a quilt from the bottom of the bed and wrapped it around her, holding her close. “Howcome y’r allus so wrm?” muttered Naevia into his collarbone. He chuckled. 

“Because you have that effect on me. Now go to sleep, I’ll look after you.”

***

When the doorbell rang later that day, Naevia and Rosie had migrated to the sofa and were cuddled up watching Pride and Prejudice – at least Naevia was, and Rosie was drifting between sleeping and whimpering pitifully in her mother’s arms. Crixus opened the door, and Agron swept in, holding Duro in one arm and brandishing a plastic bag in the other. 

“Keep calm Naev ‘n’ Rose, the cavalry is here to save you!”

“Took you long enough,” grumbled Crixus as he took the bag from Agron into the kitchen. Duro toddled over to where Rosie lay, and touched her face with a chubby hand. 

“Rosie! Feel better now!” Rosie started sniffling again and hugged Duro to her, who tried, in the best way a three-year-old-can, to comfort her. He did this by clumsily patting her on the head and promising to share his penguin bar with her next time they played together. Agron beamed upon them. 

“Awwww, isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Yeah, until she throws up on him,” Crixus’ dry tone came from the doorway. “Why did you bring him? He could catch it from her, Shit-for-wit.” Naevia growled slightly from the sofa but was too engrossed in the world of Lizzie Bennett to give Crixus the walloping he would usually get for using such language in front of the children. Agron pouted.

“I know that, fuckar - uhm, fool-bum. But Nasir’s at work and Duro’s had his flu jab and we’re not staying in this leper-house for long so just chillax, yeah?”

“You did NOT just tell me to chillax, you stinking pile of-“

“Ooh, I love this bit!” Agron squealed suddenly, leaping into an armchair, his gaze fixed on the television screen. “Mr Darcy. In a wet shirt. It does not get any better. And Crixus, if you even think about telling Nasir I just said that, I will end you. Besides, he agrees with me.”

“Shut up. I thought you weren’t staying in the sickhouse, anyway.”

“Dude, I would risk far worse to see Mr Darcy in those breeches.”

“What about Duro?”

“Aw, shit!”

“Agron! Language!”

“Oh, um, sorry Naev, won’t happen again.”

“Yeah right.”

“Oh, like you don’t do it just as much, Buttmuffin!”

“AGRON!”

“What? Buttmuffin isn’t a swear word! I was being innovative! C’mon Duro mate, time to go before you catch the plague from these guys, you can come and visit Rosie again tomorrow, OK? Let me know if you need anything else.” He flipped Crixus the bird, gave Rosie a hug, swept Naevia a huge flourishing bow before dropping a kiss on the top of her head, caught his son up in his arms and galumphed out of the house. 

***

That evening, Crixus dosed his girls with Calpol and ibuprofen respectively then settled down with Rosie in her room. Although her temperature had gone down considerably since the morning, she was too feverish and unhappy to want to play games, so he sat with her, wrapped in a duvet, in his arms and read her stories. After the umpteenth reading of `We’re going on a Bear Hunt`, Crixus stopped and listened. Rosie’s breathing was deep and even. He lifted her and carried her to her bed. As he set her down, she stirred and whimpered quietly, so he spoke in a low, soothing rumble:

“Shh now little one, Daddy’s here, go to sleep my beautiful baby.” He stayed with her, stroking her hair gently until he was sure she was soundly asleep, then rose and went to attend to Naevia. 

“Did Mr Darcy get the girl?” He asked as he brought her some soup and dry crackers before she went to bed. His wife smirked at him.

“Yes he did and it was beautiful and it has cured me.” As she said this, she tried to rise, but swayed and her legs gave out just as Crixus caught her.

“I can see that,” he remarked drily. Naevia swatted him weakly on the arm. 

“I got up too quickly and got dizzy. I’m alright now, love.” Ignoring her, Crixus swept her up in his arms and, cradling her like a baby, carried her upstairs to their bedroom. Naevia gave up attempts at resistance and rested her heavy head on his shoulder. He set her face down on the bed, sat down next to her and began to massage her back, neck and shoulders. Naevia groaned at the bliss of released pain and tension. “I’ve told you before and I tell you again: you have magic hands.” Crixus chuckled. 

“You have said that before, but I’m not sure it’s ever been in this context. Usually when I carry you up the stairs and give you a massage it’s the prelude to a rather different and far more enjoyable activity. Whereas I think after this all you want to do is sleep. Am I right?” He received an incoherent and sleepy mumble, and nodded emphatically. “Exactly.” He tucked the duvet around his soundly asleep wife, then made his way downstairs again and switched on the telly, looking and the DVD of Pride and Prejudice and shaking his head. He couldn’t understand Naevia’s obsession with it. He sighed sadly at the folly of women, then settled down to watch Sleepless in Seattle. Hopefully tomorrow his girls would be better and Agron would have caught the bug. Then all would once again be right with the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. 
> 
> Huzzah for comment boxes!


End file.
